Page 182 of Obey

“You don't trust me. Why would I stay?”

“Sloane, we just need time to sort this out,” Elias says, his voice quieter than before.

She turns on him. “More time? You've had days, Elias. Days to talk to me, to tell me what was happening, to treat me like someone you supposedly love.” She gestures toward Nate. “And now this man is threatening to ruin my career because I won't stay where I'm not wanted?”

Nate opens his mouth, but she holds up a hand.

“No. You don't get to explain that away. You stood there and accused me of betraying you, and now you're threatening to make sure I can't get another job? Do you hear how fucked up that is?”

I look at Nate, waiting for him to take it back. To apologize. Anything.

He says nothing.

“And you know what's really sad?” Sloane continues, her voice losing some of its anger. “I thought I could have both. A career I loved and three men who loved me back. Instead, I have a boss who thinks he owns me and a relationship where I'm guilty until proven innocent.”

“Sugar...” I start, but she shakes her head.

“Not you, Jace.” Her expression softens when she looks at me. “You were the only one who believed me. But I can't stay here just because you do.”

Sloane lets out a slow breath, gaze flicking between us. “You three built something brilliant,” she says. “Don’t let me be what breaks it.”

Then she turns and walks away before any of us can stop her.

Nate listens until the sound of her disappears, and then he's moving.

I make it halfway down the corridor before I hear him.

“Sloane.”

I keep walking.

“Sloane.”

His footsteps close the distance before I reach the corner, and then he’s in front of me, and I have to stop or walk straight into his chest.

I stop.

His expression isn’t what I expected. All week it’s been cold. Controlled. The particular blankness he wears when he’s already decided something. This is different. His eyes search my face with a desperate urgency, as if memorizing a map to a place he’s already lost.

“You’re really leaving San Francisco.” It’s not a question.

“Move, Nate.”

“You were going to leave the city without a word.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice.” I try to step around him. He steps with me, unhurried, immovable. “Nate. I said move.”

“No.”

“Why—”

“Because we can’t lose you.”

Something in my chest pulls tight, then gives. “You accused me, Nate. You looked me in the eye and decided I was capable of that, and now you don’t want to lose me?”

“I know, Sloane. And what I said back there was unforgivable.” His voice roughens. “I'm used to getting what I want. If something stands in my way, I find a way around it. If someone tells me no, I have enough money and influence to make them reconsider.”

He drags a hand through his hair. “And when you told me you were leaving, I panicked. I did what I've always done when I feel like I'm losing control. I tried to take yours.”